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EVENTS
CENTERS
CNNSI.com GROUP
COMMERCE
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On the Diamond In the middle of the baseball galaxy, all is almost too much
By John Donovan, CNNSI.com SEATTLE -- The day of the All-Star Game is, in just about every way, about the same as the days leading up to the game. Only more so. More people. More excitement. More things to cram into less time. More noise. More indigestion. More assaults on more senses. And then there's that silly baseball game that has to be played. Here in the center of the baseball galaxy, the 72nd All-Star Game is at a boiling point. The city of Seattle is jazzed. The players are jazzed. The sky above the retractable roof at Safeco Field is almost too blue. The hot dogs actually smell too good. It is a scene straight out of a typical pro sports super-event. A little overhyped, perhaps? No such thing nowadays, is there? "Lemme see," says Kansas City Royals first baseman Mike Sweeney, in front of his locker in the coolness of the American League clubhouse, maybe an hour and a half before the game is supposed to start. Sweeney is trying to figure something out, but he's confused on which jersey he should be wearing and he's lost his train of thought. "Oh, yeah, autographs. Yeah, we had to sign, like 30 dozen of them the other day. Ever since I got here. And I sign a few more, so ... "Lemme see. Thirty dozen ...12 times 3 ... 36 ... So that's 360. So ... 612. I'd say 612." Yeah, that's the kind of few days it's been for the players. Talk a little, sign a lot. Lots of those baseballs are for charities, of course, and lots for are fans. But plenty are for teammates. In the AL clubhouse, Ichiro Suzuki -- the true center of the baseball galaxy -- has a clubhouse attendant take a poster around that his teammates can sign for a keepsake of his first All-Star Game. Alex Rodriguez, the Texas Rangers shortstop and a villain in this part of the baseball galaxy, has a name card that was used at his press conferences Monday autographed with the name of several of his teammates. Jerseys are passed around, bats, more balls ... players want more, too. Over in the National League clubhouse, on the third base side of beautiful Safeco Field in what has been a beauteous city for the entire half-week, much of the same is happening. Things are a little newsier there. Arizona Diamondbacks pitcher Curt Schilling, who was supposed to be the starter for Tuesday's game, is explaining -- over and over -- why he decided not to pitch. He just had a start Sunday for the D'backs and threw more than 100 pitches, but he still was asked. "The decision was completely in my hands," he said. "But I don't think it would have been the right decision. I probably could have muscled it up and threw an inning ... but I don't think I'd be as effective as him." He was talking of Arizona teammate Randy Johnson, who will take his place as the starter for the NL. Johnson pitching, of course, brings up that delicious right-out-of-the-box matchup against Ichiro in the game's first at-bat. It's doubly delicious because Johnson is a former Mariners pitcher. "I'm beyond excited to see this crowd when Randy goes out there." Across the room, Atlanta Braves third baseman Chipper Jones -- at least he's a third baseman for now -- is talking about the possibility of moving, not to left field, but to shortstop. With Rafael Furcal out, he's thought about it, though he's insistent that Atlanta manager Bobby Cox has not said anything to him and that the chances are "99 out of 100" that Mark DeRosa will take over for Furcal at short. There's stuff happening on the NL side, but it's not all business. Last-minute replacement Cliff Floyd of the Florida Marlins can be seen through the door to the players' lounge watching TV with Colorado Rockies pitcher Mike Hampton. They're watching ... gymnastics? Yeah. Gymnastics. Chicago Cubs slugger Sammy Sosa, back in the corner of the clubhouse, is holding court with Montreal Expos slugger Vladimir Guerrero and St. Louis Cardinals rookie slugger Albert Pujols. It's Slugger Central. A bit later, after the NL players wrap up batting practice and dozens of workers pretty up the field for the pre-game festivities -- it's a samba ensemble, a Japanese Taiko ensemble and a Latin ensemble here in the middle of the galaxy -- most of the more than 46,000 fans who are expected for the game already are here and rocking. The majority of them are ready to go wild for the hometown Mariners. The Mariners' Ichiro, sitting cross-legged on his folding chair in front of his locker an hour or so before the scheduled start time, will be the single most-watched player in this game. More than Baltimore Orioles third baseman Cal Ripken Jr., who is playing in his final All-Star Game. More than San Francisco Giants slugger Barry Bonds, who has banged an amazing 39 homers before the All-Star break. More than any of the seven other Mariners. Ichiro demonstrates the true nature of the galaxy of baseball when he rises to walk across the room. The seven-time Japanese batting champ, who has galvanized his entire country and brought out Japanese-American baseball fans by the millions, is wearing a T-shirt with a single word on it. "Wazzzup!" Too much.
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